Showing posts with label royalty. Show all posts
Showing posts with label royalty. Show all posts

Tuesday, July 16, 2019

If I Could Change One Thing in My Past... by Delsora Lowe


Truthfully, I can’t imagine changing anything in my life, even the dreadful experiences of losing a job, or my sister, favorite aunt, and dad, and friends. Strange as it seems, and despite my longing to have all those people back in my life, the things, good or bad, have shaped who I am.
Plant given to me by the Maine Romance Writers in honor of my sister.
They bloom every year right around her birthday
Would I take back the temper tantrum, when I was fourteen, (mind you, old enough to know better,) when I refused to go to the school my parents wanted me too? No. Sure, I regret being a PIA to my parents. And, thankfully, I did not win that battle. I just celebrated my 50th high school reunion.
Looking back, the best years of my life.

My best friends (male and female) to this day are from that school, including those who I lost along the way. They were sorely missed, but their influence in my life was ever present. We had an incredible reunion, not only in recalling old memories, but many discussions on how growing up in the 60s and attending a Quaker school influenced every one of our lives. And all the more meaningful, for me, was how much more I appreciated the experience and lessons taught from the long-ago temper tantrum.

YAY for long-time, great friends
Yes, I still talk to my deceased family and friends, and wish they could answer me back, offer me their wisdom, delight me with their humor, and accompany me on new adventures. In truth, they are still there, in my heart and my mind.

But the fact is, if I changed any one thing, my life would be different and I would have missed out on something. The old adage, when one door closes, another opens. Each life experience led me to the next.

The one thing I do wish I could change are all the wasted moments.


The moments I was too tired to write while working full-time, and keep up on all the constant changes in social media and marketing. The missed communication with friends who are no longer here. Those are my regrets. The moments where it was easier to veg on the couch in front of a Hallmark movie. Even though the movies have inspired my writing.
Anyone remember high school Christmas dances?
This love story is about the chaperones.
And right now, on Hallmark, it is Christmas in July, 24 hours a day. Which is perfect timing for revising my holiday romance, which has all things Thanksgiving and Christmas at a Vermont inn, including a refurbished sleigh.
My hero refurbishes an old sleigh as a surprise for the heroine.
Okay, total disclosure, I do watch those movies over and over and over. But I also take notes, study how they construct the plot, the character arcs, details on setting, and what tropes they use. I AM working and learning. That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.

Having said all that, the wasted time of not keeping up on constant change, is now resulting in my taking more and more time out of my writing to catch up. And, hate to admit, but the “old” brain takes a lot longer to process the constant barrage of new information and updated techniques.

Still, I am who I am, because of the progression of my life experiences.

So moving forward, I’ll try to waste less time, take more opportunities to learn and experience, and live the rest of my life to the fullest (okay, I’ll still watch Hallmark and devour romances, because in my profession neither are a waste of time 😊 and they make me SUPER HAPPY.)



  ~ cottages to cabins ~ keep the home fires burning ~

Delsora Lowe writes small town sweet romances and contemporary westerns from the mountains of Colorado to the shores of Maine. Author of the Starlight Grille series, Serenity Harbor Maine novellas, and the Cowboys of Mineral Springs series, Lowe has also authored short romances for Woman’s World magazine.

A first meet, royalty and the nanny romance between a self-exiled prince with a royal chip on his shoulders and the local rancher's daughter who rails against any man who tries to tell her what to do. When she tries to tell the prince how to raise his son, tempers flare and sparks fly.
Amazon E-book link: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07PZD3FNC/ref=sr_1_2? rid=32PO3EI3KDLQI&keywords=delsora+lowe&qid=1553611414&s=digital-text&sprefix=dels%2Cdigital-text%2C196&sr=1-2-catcorr   
Amazon Print Book Link: https://www.amazon.com/dp/1091276862?ref_=pe_3052080_397514860 
Books2Read link, includes Barnes and Noble and iBooks: books2read.com/u/b6xzr6

Social Media Links:


Clip Art Links

Classmates – crayons - https://www.dreamstime.com/stock-photos-group-photo-image740763

Christmas Sleigh - http://clipart-library.com/christmas-sleigh-pictures.html

Snarky happy face - http://cliparting.com/free-smiley-face-clip-art-1465/
Flying time – man and clock - https://www.iclipart.com/search.php?keys=cliches&tl=clipart

Tuesday, April 16, 2019

“A funny thing happened on the way to…” by Delsora Lowe

Funny is a word that can be interpreted in many ways.
Using Second Definition
About an hour after I arrived at work in the alumni office of a prestigious secondary school in the middle of Washington, D.C., my alma mater and my employer, my friend and classmate working as an executive assistant to a senior law partner downtown, called. “Did you hear?” She went on to relate the story of the first plane hitting the first tower in NYC. We couldn’t imagine how air traffic controllers and pilots could miss the warnings of a huge tower looming in the path of the airplane.

The morning quickly unfolded. Hearing about the second tower. Running downstairs to the main office to watch T.V. Hearing a plane just hit the pentagon, where my co-worker’s husband worked. Luckily, he was on the opposite side, but a father of an alumni wasn’t so lucky. Then within hours, streams of people walked from downtown three miles away past my office, on a warm September, blue-skied, perfect early fall day, trying to get home with no public transportation running. 
My view of the cathedral – looking at the long side on the left of the photo.
My building sat on top of a hill, on the third floor of an old stone mansion. My office window faced the towers of the Washington National Cathedral and the flight path from the national airport where planes took off every few minutes, from across the river in Virginia. I never realized until the planes started flying again, that the visual from my window looked as though the planes were headed directly toward the cathedral towers. After 9/11, I had to turn my computer away from my precious view to avoid the sudden lurch in my stomach every few minutes—every time a plane traversed that air space—and looked like it was headed into the towers. In actuality it was an optical illusion of planes many miles away as they flew away from the city up the Potomac River toward unknown destinations. 
My office in Zartman House, under the chimney on the right, with dormer on right roof,
and another window looking out the side toward Cathedral.

That day, the school lost a parent of an alumni in the Pentagon. My co-worker lost a friend in one of the towers, whose wedding he was to take part two weeks later. Another co-worker’s daughter-in-law would have been on the subway getting off that stop at that exact time, if she hadn’t had a dentist appointment that made her late for work. Another co-worker, driving to work near the Pentagon saw the flames when the plane hit. The mother of my friend who had called earlier, saw the plane hit the Pentagon as she watched from her apartment window. A co-worker of my friend knew a flight attendant on that plane. The fire department blocks from my home were first to respond to the Pentagon. All these connections to the tragedy, out of only nine people in my department.

I tell you this, not to bring you down, but to put in perspective my feelings at suddenly being in a job that had no meaning. And in which in a matter of hours, I was two degrees away from tragedy that hit so many people that day. A job where I brought people (our alumni) together to have class reunions and gather in cities around the country for alumni parties with people who had one thing in common—they went to the same school.

I wasn’t a paramedic or a police officer or a firefighter or a soldier or an ER doctor. 

I was ONLY a party planner. I was an intermediary who brought people of common interests together.

That is until I began hearing from our alumni, letting the school and others know their friends were all right, and tracking down those we hadn’t heard from. Bringing people together in joy that their classmates were fine and had made it through a collective ordeal. And bringing those same people together to mourn. And later, celebrating my classmate (yes, I am proud of my class) by bestowing a distinguished alumni award, for the man we later learned had held together the economy of our country that first week, by being a lone person who stayed in harm’s way near the capital, even when they thought a plane might be headed toward the center of D.C. I might add, that in a few weeks I will be at this same person’s home to celebrate the 50th reunion of my class. And yes, this quiet, mild-mannered unsung hero, he is still our hero.
 

Now to the funny part.
 

As in definition number two: difficult to explain or understand.Through all that, I questioned everything I did. Part of my escape was to start writing. My first completed manuscript is lost somewhere, under a bed maybe. Poems I wrote got wiped out in a computer fix. But the feeling I got from using my imagination to weave stories, grew. I may not be a paramedic or in any of those other saving and protecting careers, but my gift to you, is to give you a place in which to escape to a world of make-believe. The world of happily-ever-afters, where hurts can be cured with the love of a special person.

And my gift on 9/11 and days and weeks to follow, was to bring people together, to connect them with friends, and to reassure them. To write their human-interest stories for the alumni magazine. It made me realize in the little spec of my world, that I had a talent to connect people and tell their stories. And that in this moment of history, that was important.

I no longer write non-fiction for alumni magazines. But that year marked the beginning of my fiction-writing journey. And for that I am personally grateful, as the writing saved me, made me strong enough to bring people together for fun and learning experiences, and understand that the small part I (and all writers) contribute to the world is important.


DELSORA LOWE
~ cottages to cabins ~ keep the home fires burning ~
 

Delsora Lowe writes small town sweet romances and contemporary westerns from the mountains of Colorado to the shores of Maine.
Author of the Starlight Grille series, Serenity Harbor Maine novellas, and the Cowboys of Mineral Springs series, Lowe has also authored short romances for Woman’s World magazine.
New Release - Blurb: The Prince’s Son 


A first meet, royalty and the nanny romance between a self-exiled prince with a royal chip on his shoulders and the local rancher's daughter who rails against any man who tries to tell her what to do. When she tries to tell the prince how to raise his son, tempers flare and sparks fly.

Ari Orula, a prince with a royal chip on his shoulders, has sworn off women.
Carla Peters, the rancher's daughter, has big dreams and it doesn't include listening to her dad, big brothers, or the new prince in town.
When the prince finds himself in dire straits and must find a nanny pronto, the last person he wants is his son's know-it-all ski teacher who insinuates he has a lot to learn about fatherhood.
The money the prince offers Carla for two weeks as a nanny will put a big dent in the cost of renovations for her new school, her life's dream. Does she dare risk working for the rancher her brothers think is trying to destroy their livelihood?
Despite best laid plans, two people at odds are brought together to rescue a child. At risk of alienating her family, Carla accepts the position. At risk of melting his stone-cold heart, Ari hires the rancher's daughter.
Will the sparks that fly torch Carla's dreams and inflame Ari's resolve, or ignite an everlasting love?

READ ME LINKS:
Amazon E-book link:https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07PZD3FNC/ref=sr_1_2?crid=32PO3EI3KDLQI&keywords=delsora+lowe&qid=1553611414&s=digital-text&sprefix=dels%2Cdigital-text%2C196&sr=1-2-catcorr  

Amazon Print Book Link:
https://www.amazon.com/dp/1091276862?ref_=pe_3052080_397514860
Books2read link, (includes Barnes and Noble and iBooks): books2read.com/u/b6xzr6

Social Media Links:
Author website: www.delsoralowe.com
Author FaceBook page: fb.me/delsoraloweauthor
Amazon Author page: https://www.amazon.com/Delsora-Lowe/e/B01M61OM39/ref=ntt_dp_epwbk_0
Books2Read Author page: https://www.books2read.com/ap/8GWm98/Delsora-Lowe
BookBub Author Page: 
https://www.bookbub.com/authors/delsora-lowe-93c6987f-129d-483d-9f5a-abe603876518
Goodreads Author Page: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/16045986.Delsora_Lowe 

Photo Credits:
https://www.google.com/search?q=free+photos+of+washington+cathedral&tbm=isch&source=iu&ictx=1&fir=KmJNT7Ax-Y0vkM%253A%252CVHfJH91BkT7QFM%252C_&vet=1&usg=AI4_-kQc0SRYD86XEnTwtFcC88kfbQ_UuQ&sa=X&ved=2ahUKEwibh7P37bbhAhWrmuAKHUVCBpEQ9QEwBXoECAkQDg#imgrc=KmJNT7Ax-Y0vkM:
Sidwell Friends School Zartman House:
https://www.weathermaster-window.com/portfolio/sidwell-friends-zartman-house/